Deadmen's Deeds
by J. B. Tilton
Summary: Pete and Myka go to check on a case where 4 people have mysteriously died with no apparent cause of death.
1. Chapter 1

WAREHOUSE 13

Deadmen's Deeds

By J. B. Tilton (a.k.a. NoAzMale) and Teri Thibeault (a.k.a. Tessalynne)

Emails:

noazmale evilgidget_2000

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: "Warehouse 13" and all related characters and events are the property of the SyFy television network, except for those characters specifically created for this story. This is a work of fan fiction and no infringement of copyright is intended.

(Authors' note: This story takes place between season 1 episodes "Pilot" and "Resonance".)

Pete and Myka go to check on a case where 4 people have mysteriously died with no apparent cause of death.

ONE

Pete hit the ground with a resounding "thud" and was momentarily stunned at he had the wind knocked out of him. He had underestimated his opponent. A small man with a slight build Pete had figured he would be easy to take down. He had been wrong. As he tried to clear his head the man suddenly reached inside Pete's coat and pulled out his 9 mm service revolver.

"More than you bargained for, huh?" scoffed the man as he brandished the weapon at Pete.

Pete could do little but lie there. At that range, no one could possibly miss. All the man had to do was pull the trigger and Pete would be dead. Pete tried to gauge his advantage. If he were quick enough, he might be able to avoid the shot and disarm his opponent. As he tensed to spring at the man several tendrils of electricity suddenly struck the man. He stood over Pete spasming for several moments, then suddenly collapsed on the ground next to Pete, unconscious. Pete looked over and saw Myka standing several feet away with the Tesla still raised.

"Thanks," said Pete, getting to his feet, "but I had him right where I wanted him."

"Sure you did. He was about to blow your head off."

"Oh, it only looked that way," replied Pete with his usually cockiness. "I was about to take him down."

"Just get the ring," said Myka, as she pulled out the neutralizer bag.

Pete reached down and pulled a small gold band off the unconscious man's hand. By all accounts it didn't look very imposing. No different from a thousand other rings that most married men wore. But as Pete and Myka had learned since becoming agents for the Warehouse, looks could be very deceiving.

"Artie," said Myka, activating her Farnsworth, "we got it."

"Great," said Artie. "Has it been neutralized?"

"Of course," replied Pete sarcastically.

"Okay, get back here as quickly as you can," said Artie. Without further comment Artie terminated the link and the Farnsworth went dead.

"Wonder what that was all about?" questioned Myka.

"Oh, you know how he is," said Pete. "He thinks that every artifact means the end of the world or something. Come on. Let's get back to the car. After the last four days I think we can afford to take our time getting back to the Warehouse."

"Artie said to get back as quickly as we could," protested Myka.

"And you always do everything you're told?"

"Well, yeah."

Pete just shot her a raspberry as they headed for their car. It was nearly a 5 hour trip back to the Warehouse. He decided 8 hours was a better time frame.

"What took you so long?" asked Artie as they entered the Warehouse. "You should have been back hours ago."

"Oh, uh, there was a big pile up on the highway," Pete lied, shooting a warning glance at Myka. "We had to wait until it was cleared."

"Really?" questioned Artie in his puzzled look. "I didn't hear anything about it."

"Here," said Myka, handing the neutralizer bag to Artie, trying to change the subject. "Here's the ring."

"Great," said Artie, gingerly taking the ring out of the bag. He looked it over carefully, and then placed it in a wooden ring box sitting on his desk.

"What's so dangerous about a simple gold wedding band?" Pete asked. "It didn't seem to do the guy who had it much good."

"It allowed him to rob nearly half a dozen banks before we were on to him," said Artie. "Originally, it belonged to Reginald Crumpet."

"Crumpet?" questioned Myka. "I never heard of him."

"No one has," said Artie. "He was a government employee in San Francisco at the turn of the 20th century. He made a lot of suggestions that helped improve the city government but each time he did someone higher up took the credit for it. Over time he began to feel less and less important, like no one was paying attention to him. That was transferred to his wedding ring. Now, whoever wears the ring can walk around completely unnoticed."

"You mean, like, invisible?" questioned Pete.

"No, not invisible. Just unnoticeable. That's how the guy who had the ring was able to rob all those banks. He simply walked in and took the money and no one even noticed he was there."

"Well, we have it back now," said Myka. "Guess we should get it put away."

"As soon as I have it catalogued," said Artie. "Right now, I have another assignment for you."

"What, all ready?" whined Pete. "We just got back. It took us 4 days to track down that guy and get the ring back. I figured we'd get a couple of days R&R before you sent us out again."

"This one can't wait," said Artie. "I came across this while you were out." He handed Myka a sheet of paper. She looked it over and then looked up at Artie.

"Four deaths?" she questioned. "What makes you think an artifact is involved?"

"Four deaths with absolutely no cause," responded Artie. "The coroner can't find any cause of death for any of them. And they're all very high level criminals."

"Well, that's certainly suspicious," said Pete, looking over the paper Myka was holding. "That doesn't mean an artifact is involved."

"That's why you're going to check it out," said Artie. "Find out if an artifact is involved and if it is, bring it back here."

"And if it's not an artifact?" questioned Myka.

"Then take a couple of days and get some rest," said Artie. "I think you've earned it."

"Well, okay," said Pete, smiling from ear to ear. "Just where are we going, anyway?"

"St. Louis", replied Artie as he turned to begin cataloguing the ring.


	2. Chapter 2

TWO

When Pete and Myka got to St. Louis they decided to go directly to the coroner's office and find out everything they could about the deaths. Pete couldn't see any sense in investigating any mysterious deaths since there was no indication any artifact was involved. Even Myka was a bit perplexed. But Artie seemed to think it was important and they investigated as they had been instructed.

"So, what interest does the Secret Service have with a couple of local corpses?" asked the coroner when they had identified themselves. "I thought you guys protected the President and tracked counterfeit money and stuff like that? I didn't know you became involved in some local deaths."

"Well," said Myka, "we do when there are other implications. The reports said you had no cause of death on the four men?"

"Not a clue," said the coroner. "There's no sign of trauma and no wounds on any of the bodies. Most of them had alcohol in their systems but only as much as you might find in any social drinker. One was a smoker but that wasn't even a contributing cause. And none of them had any drugs in their systems that we could detect. From all I can tell they just died. As if their hearts just suddenly stopped. No indication of what might have caused it."

"What about electrocution?" Pete asked. "Like maybe being in a bathtub full of water and a radio falls in or something like that?"

"There's no indication of any kind of electrical shock to their systems. Like I said, it's as if they just suddenly died for no reason. I don't know of anything that would cause them to die and leave absolutely no trace."

"And they were all criminals?" questioned Myka.

"That's another strange thing," said the coroner. "Most of them were pretty high up in the criminal circles here in St. Louis. One worked for the Garibaldi Family. Something like the 4th highest in the family. One was a known drug dealer; probably the biggest one in the city. Another one was a loan shark that had his fingers into any number of people."

"What about the 4th body?" Myka asked.

"An undercover detective," replied the coroner. "The only reason he's down here with the others is because I can't find any cause of death for him, just like the other three. It's like he just died."

"Who reported their deaths?" Pete asked.

"Family members. They all died peacefully in their sleeps." There was more than a note of sarcasm in the coroner's voice. "Frankly, I don't buy it but I can't prove otherwise. The police reports all say that the bodies were found by the police in their beds. All except the detective. He was found dumped in an alleyway."

"What do you think happened?" Myka asked.

"Frankly, I don't know," replied the coroner. "If I had a cause of death I might be able to hazard a guess. But like I said, I can't even figure out how these guys died, let alone what killed them. It's the damnedest thing I've seen in my 17 years as a coroner."

He paused for a moment as if thinking about something.

"You're interested in strange deaths?" he asked finally. "I got another mystery for you."

He walked into another room, followed closely by Pete and Myka. In the room were three bodies lying on gurneys each covered in a white sheet. It was a familiar sight in morgues all around the country. He stepped up to the first body and pulled back the sheet, exposing the body underneath down to the waist.

The body was that of a white male, approximately 40 years of age, with three very neat bullet holes in his chest. Pete and Myka looked at the body and then at each other. Other than it was dead, they didn't see anything unusual about it.

"What's so strange about this?" Pete asked. "Looks like someone shot him to death."

"Except they didn't," said the coroner. "This man was dead at least 3 days before he was shot."

"How do you know that?" Myka asked.

"The bullet holes. They'd begun to heal. I was also able to identify the body through its fingerprints. Michael Roarke, a local car salesman. When I checked, I found a death certificate all ready on file. It confirmed what I all ready knew. Roarke was pronounced dead at Mercy Hospital 3 days before he was shot."

"Are you saying that a dead body got up and walked out of the hospital and was then shot 3 days later by someone?" Pete asked.

"I don't know what I'm saying," said the coroner. "All I can tell you is that Roarke died three days before he was shot. And like I said, the bullet wounds had actually begun to heal which means he was still alive after he was shot."

"So they made a mistake at the hospital," said Myka. "He wasn't really dead."

"A doctor is not likely to make that mistake," said the coroner. "I spoke to the doctor who certified the death. Roarke died of an inoperable brain tumor. He had been under the same doctor's care for the last 7 years. He was stone cold dead.

"It's the same with the other 2 bodies." He indicated the 2 additional bodies in the morgue. "Each was certified as dead at the hospital. Cause of the deaths was undeniable and there's no question they were dead. But I found evidence that suggests that there was healing or some other physiological activity several days after death. Like our 4 friends in the other room, I've never seen anything like it."

"Are these connected to the bodies in the other room in any way?" Myka asked.

"Not that I can tell," said the coroner. "But you might want to speak to a Detective Robbins. He's at the 9th precinct. He was the partner of the cop that died."

"Okay, thanks," said Myka. She and Pete left the coroner's office.

"Well, this is really weird," said Pete as they headed for their car. "Seven mysterious deaths and corpses getting up and walking around. Sounds like Night of the Living Dead."

"Will you get serious?" said Myka. "Corpses don't just get up and walk around."

"They might if there's an artifact involved," said Pete. "We should let Artie know what's going on. Maybe he knows of an artifact that can do this."

"I'll contact him right away. In the mean time, why don't you make yourself useful and see if you can find out where Precinct 9 is? We should talk to Detective Robbins."


	3. Chapter 3

THREE

"And the coroner says he's sure they were dead?" questioned Artie when Myka had filled him in.

"He said he spoke to the attending physicians," said Myka. "They were all certified as dead. But he claims to have found evidence of biological activity after they were dead."

"Don't hair and fingernails continue to grow after we die?" questioned Pete.

"No," replied Artie. "That's an old wive's tale. As the body begins to dry out the skin around the hair follicles and nails begins to recede giving the impression that they're still growing. But they don't actually grow."

"So, what?" questioned Myka. "Are we looking for 2 artifacts? One that can kill without leaving a mark and another that can reanimate a dead body?"

"I don't know," said Artie. "It's possible. You two check with Detective Robbins and see what he has to say. I'll do some more checking here and see what I can find out. There are a number of artifacts that can reanimate a dead body but as far as I know they've all been accounted for."

"Let us know what you find out, mon capitan," said Pete in a mock French accent.

"Did you find out where Precinct 9 is?" Myka asked as she closed her Farnsworth.

"Sure did. I'll drive."

Detective Robbins turned out to be in his mid-30s and looked nothing like a police detective. He had long hair and was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. His badge hung around his neck on a chain and he had several days' growth of beard.

"My partner and I were working undercover when he died," said Robbins. "The captain decided to pull me out after they found his body. He was afraid my cover had been blown."

"What was your partner doing just before he died?" Myka asked.

"Like I said, we were working undercover. We were infiltrating the Garibaldi Family. Trying to see if we could get anything on them to arrest them. Jack – he was my partner – Jack was working with one of Garibaldi's loan sharks. The last time I talked to him he said he was getting enough evidence to put Garibaldi away for 20 years. Then we find his body in an alley. He turned out to be the second victim of whatever it is that's killing those men."

"Did he have any kind of medical condition?" Pete asked. "Anything that might account for his death?"

"Nothing. He was in the peak of health. You have to be doing undercover work. And as far as I know, the men he was working with had no idea he was a cop. I don't see how they could have made him. And the coroner said he couldn't find any cause of death."

"What can you tell us about this Garibaldi?" Myka asked.

"Biggest crime family in the city. Into everything from prostitution to numbers to protection. We've been trying to nail him for years but he keeps himself pretty insulated. Makes sure that nothing can ever be traced back to him. That's what Jack and I were working on. But you know, there is something odd."

"Odd?" Myka asked. "Odd how?"

"Word on the street is that one of Garibaldi's bagmen got hit a while back. Made off with nearly a quarter of a million dollars of Garibaldi's ill gotten gain. My informants tell me that Garibaldi has put out a reward of 50Gs for anyone who can identify the culprit. So far there haven't been any takers."

"When did that happen?" Pete asked.

"About 3 weeks ago. Just before we found Jack's body."

"You think there's a connection?" Myka asked.

"Can't say for sure. That was my first inclination. But Jack wasn't working as a bagman. Besides, he was working with 3 other of Garibaldi's men the night he died. It doesn't make any sense to kill just Jack and not the others. I'm thinking someone in Garibaldi's organization made Jack and that's what got him killed."

"Thanks for the help," said Pete. "If we learn anything, we'll let you know."

"I'd appreciate it," said Robbins. "I'd like to find out if Jack's death was a homicide or not and who it was that did it."

"Well, that was a big goose egg," said Myka as they walked out of the police station. "He didn't know much more than the coroner did."

"Maybe this will tell us something," said Pete, as he opened a newspaper.

"Where did you get that?"

"It was lying on one of the benches in the police station. Obviously someone abandoned it so I figured it might give us a lead."

"You stole a newspaper out of the police station? Pete, you can't just walk off with something just because it's lying around. Especially out of a police station."

"What's the big deal? People abandon newspapers all the time. There was no one near it so I figure it's fair game."

"Unbelievable. You could have gotten us arrested." Myka looked around half expecting some of the local cops to come storming out of the station at any minute to arrest them for petty larceny.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch," said Pete, looking through the paper. "Besides, I found something. In fact, I found two somethings. Here's a story about the 4 unexplained deaths. And on the opposite page is a story on the 3 bodies that the coroner told us about. It doesn't say anything about one of the deaths being an undercover cop."

"Of course it doesn't you moron. They probably haven't released that information to protect the cops partner and family."

"I know that," said Pete looking suspiciously at Myka. "Hey, it says here that the three bodies were initially delivered to the same mortuary and that they just disappeared from there."

"Same mortuary? Then there's probably something at that mortuary that's causing them to get up and walk away. Some artifact that's reanimating them. The question is, what is it? We really have no idea what we're looking for."

"Not to mention we still don't have a lead on what killed those other four. According to the bylines the same reporter wrote both stories. We should talk to him. See what he knows that's not in his stories."

"Okay, you go see the reporter and find out what he knows about either case. I'll go to the mortuary and see what they can tell me about the bodies just suddenly getting up and walking away."

"Then we can meet at that restaurant down the street we saw on our way over here. I'm starved."

"How can you think of food at a time like this?"

"Hey, I'm hungry. Besides, we gotta eat."

"Fine. I'll meet you there in an hour. Then we can call Artie and see if he's found out anything new."

"Great," said Pete, looking around. "Now, if I remember correctly, the newspaper is about two blocks thataway. I'll see you in an hour."

Myka took the newspaper and found the name and address for the mortuary. Then she headed for the car.

"Not much I can tell you other than what was in the story," said the reporter as Pete interviewed him. "Wasn't much to go on. All of the men were found in their beds and the coroner can't seem to determine a cause of death. All but Jack Morgan. He was found lying in an alley. But they all seemed to have died the same way. Only, there's no indication what that way was."

"Yeah, that's what the coroner told my partner and me," said Pete. "You don't have anything that wasn't in the story?"

"Well, there is one thing. My editor didn't want to print it because he said it's just speculation. Mostly rumors and such. But according to my sources, all three of the criminals were robbed just before they turned up dead. I can't find anyone that will go on the record about it, but it all happened the same way. They're counting the money from whatever source they get it when a lone guy suddenly walks in with a gun. He forces them to put the money in a bag, then the guy just takes off. He's never seen again, neither is the money."

"Is it the same guy?"

"Nope, different guy each time. Now here's the weird part. From the descriptions I got, the three guys are the same three guys in the morgue. The ones the coroner says were still alive after they were pronounced dead."

"You sure about that?"

"Well, I didn't take anyone down to identify the bodies, if that's what you mean. But someone I talked to said that when one of the guys robbed his boss, another one of the men there put three slugs in the guys' chest. It didn't even phase him. It's like he was immune or something. After that, none of them wanted to mess with the guy. My editor said he wasn't going to print anything like that. Didn't want the paper getting a reputation like those rags at the supermarket."

"Well, you gotta admit, it sounds crazy," said Pete, trying to act nonchalant. "A guy takes three slugs in the chest and walks away. Sounds like your witness was on something."

"Yeah, well here's something else. At each of the robberies the assailant took a hostage. The next morning they find the hostage dead in an alley or in the park or something. The same 4 that are in the morgue that the coroner can't find a cause of death for. So these two cases are connected. My editor is just a bit skiddish about connecting them in the paper. Says I need something a bit more concrete before he'll print that."

"You're saying that the 4 bodies that the coroner can't find a cause of death for were each taken from one of the robberies? Taken by the assailants that the coroner says got up and walked away after a doctor had pronounced them dead?"

"That's what I'm saying. Only I don't have any corroboration. The only 'witnesses' are mob-related men. Not exactly the most reliable sources most of the time. But my gut tells me there's something going on here. I just haven't been able to figure out what."

"Could be your witnesses are just covering for their bosses," said Pete. "It's possible they had the men killed and are just trying to divert your attention with this elaborate story."

"Maybe. But the descriptions from the witnesses was all pretty much the same. And like I said, they all match the same bodies the coroner has in the morgue right now. What interest does the Secret Service have in all this? You think this might be some kind of new weapon the terrorists have come up or something?"

"No, no, nothing like that. Just following up a lead on another case. It's probably nothing. That's how it usually is. Following up a bunch of leads that don't go anywhere."

"Yeah, I don't think so," said the reporter suspiciously. "I think there's more to this than you're telling me. Come on, level with me. Something weird is going on here. And I think you know something about it."

"Nope, don't know nothing. Like I said, just following up a lead that probably won't go anywhere. Besides, you know of any way to kill someone without leaving any evidence of what happened?"

"No, not really," said the reporter, still suspicious. "But that doesn't mean there isn't one. Look, a story like this can make my career. I could make you famous. If this is some new kind of weapon the public has a right to know about it."

"Yeah, there's no weapon," lied Pete. "Just some unexplained deaths. I gotta go. Thanks for the info."

Pete left the reporters' office and headed for the restaurant down the street.


	4. Chapter 4

FOUR

Myka walked up to the mortuary and looked around. It appeared to be deserted at the moment except for a single young man sitting in the back of an open door on what appeared to be some kind of ambulance. The man appeared to be in his mid-20s and was calmly drinking from a water bottle.

"Hello," said Myka, showing her ID to the man, "I'm looking for the owner or manager."

"Mr. Silverman is out of town right now," replied the man. "Been gone about 2 weeks. Some kind of morticians convention or something. I'm Derrick Stapleton. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Have you worked here long?"

"About 8 months or so. The job doesn't have any benefits but the pay's not bad. And Silverman's a pretty decent guy to work for."

"I'm looking for some information on some bodies that were delivered here recently." Myka handed the young man a piece of paper. "These are the names and dates they were delivered here."

"Yeah, we picked them up," said Stapleton. "In fact, I picked up two of them myself."

"You picked them up?" questioned Myka.

"Yeah. I'm a driver here. My job is to pick up the bodies from the local hospitals and deliver them here for burial. Like I said, I picked up two of them myself and brought them here."

"Then maybe you can tell me how they ended up being found in other parts of town after you delivered them here?" questioned Myka.

"Really? I hadn't heard anything about that. Like I said, I just pick them up and deliver them. I don't have anything to do with what they do with them once I drop them off."

"And just what do they do here exactly?"

"Well," said the man thoughtfully, taking another drink from his bottle, "the way it was explained to me, they prepare them for burial. Most of them get embalmed and they make them up so they're presentable at the viewings, that sort of thing."

"Most?" questioned Myka. "Not all of the bodies get embalmed?"

"Oh, no. Some people don't want to spring for the cost of embalming. And some religions prohibit embalming. Like Jews and Muslims. A few others. Same thing with autopsies. Jews and Muslims don't allow for autopsy, except under certain circumstances. Mr. Silverman offers a traditional Jewish funeral and burial. He's the only one in town that does. But like I said, I don't have anything to do with any of that. I just pick up the bodies and drop them off."

"Are you the only one?"

"No, there are three of us. There's me. I work Wednesday through Sunday. Then there's Larry Gordon. He works Monday through Friday. He's been here the longest and he's the owners' nephew so he gets the cream job. He and I picked up the other two bodies. We also have Greg Connors. He's only part time and he works Saturday through Tuesday. He fills in when Larry and I are off."

"So there's always two of you delivering the bodies?"

"Yeah, usually. Sometimes there's only one of us. One of us has to take a day off or something and that only leaves one of us to do the job. It's not usually a problem. To be honest, one of us can do the job pretty easily most of the time."

"So, these two bodies that you picked up. Did you by chance pick either of them up by yourself?"

"No, those two were on Thursdays. Larry and I picked them up together. Like I said. We dropped them off and went out on another run. Some nights we make several trips to local hospitals."

"What about the other one?" asked Myka. "The one you didn't pick up. Do you know if either Gordon or Connors picked up that one by themselves?"

"I don't really know. They didn't mention anything like that. But we don't usually talk about our pickups on our days off. They're usually pretty routine. But Dr. Pendergast didn't mention anything about any of the bodies pulling a Lazarus or anything."

"Dr. Pendergast?"

"Dr. Ulysses Pendergast," replied Stapleton. "He's the doctor here that does all the embalming and medical stuff the bodies require. But like I said, he never mentioned anything about any bodies getting up and walking away."

"What about this Larry Gordon? You said you two work together. Is he around here somewhere? I'd really like to speak to him."

"No, sorry. He had a doctor's appointment so he took the afternoon off. He'll be back tomorrow. You can talk to him then."

"What about Dr. Pendergast? He wouldn't be around would he?"

"The doc only comes in on weekends," replied Stapleton. "He works over at Mercy Hospital during the week. He's an Oncologist. I'm the only one here right now."

"Okay, thanks. I appreciate the information. I'll come back tomorrow."

Myka turned and headed back to her car as Stapleton picked up a fresh water bottle and took a drink from it.

"So the doctor that does the embalming also works at the hospital where the bodies came from," said Artie after they had filled him in on what they had learned. "That makes it convenient. He'd have his pick of bodies to choose from and he'd know where they were going. He'd just have to wait until they were delivered before he used the artifact. No one would be the wiser."

"Yeah, that's what we thought," said Myka. "What I don't understand is why the mortuary is using a medical doctor to do the embalming. Morticians are trained to do that. Why hire an outside doctor to do the work the mortician was all ready capable of doing?"

"Maybe they're working together," offered Pete. "From what we've found out whoever is doing this has gotten away with a lot of money. At least two hundred fifty grand that we know of. Who knows how many people they robbed and how much they've gotten away with?"

"Artie, have you found anything on the artifact yet?" Myka asked.

"I'm still looking," said Artie. "Most artifacts leave some type of physical injury or wound. I'll keep looking and let you know what I find. You two go to the hospital and talk to this Doctor Pendergast. If he has an artifact he probably has it on him."

Unceremoniously Artie terminated the connection.

"Sounds about right," said Pete. "Now if we only knew what we were looking for."

"Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll just turn it over to us."

"Yeah, like that's ever going to happen."

Finding Pendegast's office wasn't very difficult. He was one of the staff doctors and his name was on the directory in the hallway. The outer office was currently empty and Pete and Myka figured his secretary was probably out on an errand or at lunch. Seeing Pendergast sitting behind his desk they decided to just announce themselves.

"Dr. Pendegast?" asked Pete, showing his badge. "We're with the . . . ."

Before he could finish Pendergast suddenly jumped up from his desk and ran out a side door.

"We got a rabbit," said Pete, taking off after the man. Myka turned and headed back out into the hallway the way they had come in.

For an older man Pendergast was surprisingly fast. He was over 50 and nearly completely bald and somewhat overweight. Even still, Pete had trouble catching up with him. He was heading for the stairs and Pete knew he'd make the stairs before he could reach him. Just before he got to the stairs, Myka stepped out in front of Pendergast, pointing the Tesla at him.

"That's far enough," she said, blocking his way to the stairs.

Pendergast turned to escape her but the moment's respite had given Pete the time he needed to catch up with the doctor. Pete grabbed the man and unceremoniously pushed him up against the wall.

"Well, I guess that answers one question," said Pete. "Innocent men don't run."

"I haven't done anything," protested Pendergast.

"Look," said Pete, "we aren't interested in you. Just hand over the artifact and we'll leave you in peace."

"Artifact?" questioned the doctor. "What are you talking about?"

"Whatever it is you're using to bring people back from the dead," said Myka. "Just give it to us and we'll leave you alone."

"Bring people back from the dead?" Pendergast sounded incredulous. "Are you out of your mind? I don't have any artifact and I'm certainly not bringing people back from the dead. If I could do that I wouldn't be working here."

"So why did you run?" Pete asked.

"You're cops. I figured you had come to arrest me. I can't afford that. I can't afford to lose my license."

"Lose your license?" questioned Myka. "Lose your license over what?"

"Uh uh, I'm not saying anything," said Pendergast. "I say anything and the next thing you know I'm in jail. I'm not saying anything until I see my lawyer."

"Look," said Pete, pulling out his ID again, "we're Secret Service, not local police. We just wanted to ask you some questions about an artifact."

"Secret Service?" questioned Pendergast. "What's this artifact you keep going on about?"

"Doctor, whatever shady deals you're involved in, we don't know and we don't care," said Myka. "We're just looking for something new that might have shown up at the mortuary where you worked in the last 6 or 7 months. And what you might know about the 3 bodies that have disappeared from that mortuary recently."

"Hey, I don't know anything about missing bodies," said Pendergast. "Okay, I'll admit that I occasionally write a script for someone who's not a patient. But that's not uncommon. Lots of doctors do it. But I don't know about any disappearing bodies."

"So you're saying that when you went to embalm three bodies and they weren't there you just forgot about it?" Pete asked.

"Silverman just tells me he's got bodies I need to take care of," said the doctor. "I get there and sometimes they aren't there. I just figured there had been a foul up and they never arrived."

"They did arrive," said Myka. "Then they just disappear from the mortuary and showed up in another part of town a few hours later."

"You mean those bodies I read about in the paper? Look, I didn't have anything to do with that. I told you, I just go to the mortuary and do the embalming when Silverman needs it. That's it. It's not my fault if the bodies aren't there when I get there. I just charge him for the visit and go home and wait for him to call again."

"You charge for work you don't do?" questioned Pete.

"I get paid for the visit," insisted Pendergast. "Whatever I do. It's not my fault if the bodies aren't there when I get there. Besides, I remember those three. Silverman mentioned them to me. They weren't going to be embalmed. He said something about religious objections or something. All I was supposed to do was make sure they were presentable for the viewing if there was one. That's it."

"You weren't going to embalm them?" Myka asked.

"That's what I said. We get a fair number of those. No autopsy and no embalming. But sometimes they need a little cosmetic fixing up. Something the makeup artist or hair stylist can't handle. So I take care of it. That's all I know. Now, if you aren't going to arrest me, can I go? Mrs. Stapleton's treatment is due and if she doesn't get it her cancer will begin to spread again."

"Stapleton?" questioned Myka. "Any relationship to Derrick Stapleton, the driver at the mortuary?"

"It's his mother. He's a nice kid and doesn't have any insurance so I'm cutting him a deal on the cost of the treatments. But like I said, if she doesn't get her treatments on time, the cancer will begin spreading again. And I really can't be late."

"Go on," said Pete. "I guess we're done with you."

Pendergast straightened his coat and then turned and headed back to his office.

"Well that got us exactly nowhere," said Pete. "And we still have no idea what we're looking for."


	5. Chapter 5

FIVE

With no other leads, Pete and Myka decided to get a hotel room. Well, two of them actually. At Myka's insistence, despite Pete's protests that one room would be cheaper than two. Pete relented easily enough. They still had a lead to check out. Larry Gordon, the other driver for Silverman Mortuary that had picked up the 3 bodies.

"I think he's our best bet," said Myka, as they sat in her room talking about the case. "So far, he's the only one we've identified that has a connection with all three bodies. Stapleton said he was off when the third body was picked up and Pendergast said he never saw them."

"What about Silverman?" Pete asked. "He'd have connection to all three bodies."

"Except that Stapleton said he'd been out of town at a morticians convention. And that he'd been gone about 2 weeks. Artie told us the last mysterious death was about a week ago. If the mysterious deaths are related to the disappearing bodies, that means Silverman was out of town at the time. The only one connected to all three disappearing bodies is Gordon."

"Okay, that makes sense. But what's he doing with the money? That 250 grand he got away with that we know of would let him live pretty high off the hog for a good long time. Why continue to work as a driver for a mortuary?"

"To throw off suspicion," suggested Myka. "If he just suddenly quit it might look suspicious. Besides, maybe he's got a goal or something. A certain amount he wants to get before he quits."

"Oh yeah, like maybe The Saint."

"What are you talking about?"

"The Saint," said Peter. "The movie. His goal was to reach 50 million before he quit. Maybe that's what Gordon is doing. Trying to accumulate a set amount and then he'll just disappear. You think we should tell Artie?"

"He said he'd contact us when he found anything. We really don't have much to tell him other than conjecture and supposition. And I don't think Artie would appreciate it if we contacted him without having anything."

"Yeah, good point. Besides we can kick back, watch some television, and just relax for tonight."

"Well, go relax in your room. There's a book I've been wanting to read and this is as good a time as any to start it."

"I'll meet you downstairs in the morning," said Pete. "Then we can go talk to Mr. Gordon, get the artifact, and get back to South Dakota. Then maybe Artie will let us have a couple of days off."

Myka just shook her head as Pete headed back to his room

When they got to the mortuary the next day it looked all but deserted except for the ambulance Myka had seen the previous day. Pete noticed a man bent over under the hood of the vehicle, apparently working on it. As they approached, they both removed their identification. Pete also made sure he could get to the Tesla easily, just in case.

"Larry Gordon?" Myka questioned as they walked up to the ambulance.

"Who wants to know?" asked the man, not bothering to look up from the hood.

"United States Secret Service," said Pete. "We'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Secret Service?" questioned the man, rising up out from underneath the hood. As he did, he banged his head on the hood. Rubbing the spot he had banged, he looked at the ID and badges Pete and Myka were holding.

"Look," he said defensively, "I didn't do nothing wrong. It was a public chat room and all I said was if the President wants to prove he should be President then he should release his birth certificate. That's all. Freedom of speech and all. Lots of other people have said the same thing."

"We're not interested in that," said Myka. "We want to talk to you about something you may have come into possession of recently. Maybe something you found on one of the bodies you picked up at the hospital."

"What? You think I'm stealing off dead bodies? That's crazy. I've never stolen anything in my life. Besides, we don't get the personal effects of the bodies we pick up. Those are collected and given to the next of kin at the hospital. There's nothing to steal."

"Maybe you got it somewhere else," said Pete. "Something that has some . . . unusual properties. Something that affects dead bodies."

"You mean like those three that disappeared from here? Hey, I don't know anything about those. Uncle Silas told me about them. He also said there was no next of kin to make a big fuss. He figured if we just kept our mouths shut it would all go away. But I swear to you, I don't know anything about that. I just pick up the bodies and drop them off here. That's my job."

"That's what Stapleton told me when I spoke to him yesterday," said Myka.

"You talked to Derrick?" questioned Gordon.

"Yesterday, as I said. He's the one who told me you'd be here today. Said you had a doctor's appointment yesterday."

"That's right. Uncle Silas doesn't mind. As long as the bodies get picked up and delivered, he doesn't really care who does it."

"Like the three that disappeared from here," said Pete. "The three you picked up."

"Two," corrected Gordon. "Two I picked up. I wasn't here for the third one."

"Stapleton told me he picked up those two bodies – with you – but that the other one was picked up on a Monday. One of his days off. The day you work."

"Normally, yeah," said Gordon. "But I didn't pick up that body. My sister was getting married so I took the day off. I wasn't even here."

"So that would mean that Greg Connors picked the body up by himself?" questioned Myka.

"Normally, yeah. But that day he called in sick. I called Derrick and he filled in for me. I asked him how things went when I saw him that Wednesday and he said they went fine."

"He lied to me," Myka said to Pete. "He told me he picked up those 2 bodies but that he was off when the third one was picked up."

"Which means he either has the artifact or he's covering for someone who does," replied Pete.

"Excuse me," said Gordon. "Artifact? What kind of artifact?"

"We aren't really sure," said Pete. "Where is Stapleton? We need to speak to him right now?"

"Probably at the hospital," said Gordon. "He usually visits his mother before our shift starts. She's got cancer real bad. He visits her as much as he can."

Just then the Farnsworth Myka carried began to chirp at them.

"Excuse us," said Myka as she and Pete moved off to speak to Artie privately.

"Hey, Artie," said Myka. "We have a lead."

"Good," said Artie. "I know what you're looking for. It took a while to find it because it hasn't been seen in nearly a thousand years. And it definitely fits the description of what we're looking for."

"That's great," said Pete. "So what is it? A ring? A bracelet? Maybe a pocket watch someone inherited from their great great grandfather?"

Artie picked up a book and turned it over to let Pete and Myka see what he had been looking at. The book looked to be very old. Maybe even something from before the turn of the 20th century. The picture was apparently a hand drawn engraving that was prevalent decades before.

The writing was a very stylized from of calligraphy although it was obvious the book had been printed on some kind of press. The picture showed a rectangular piece of cloth that nearly filled the page. There was some writing below the picture but it was too small for Pete or Myka to read.

"It's a shroud," said Artie. "A death shroud. It's the Lazarus Shroud."


	6. Chapter 6

SIX

"What's the Lazarus Shroud?" Pete asked.

"It's the shroud that Lazarus was buried in," said Myka. "In the Bible, Lazarus had been dead and buried 4 days when Jesus supposedly raised him."

"Right," said Artie. "It says that after Lazarus had come out of his tomb, Jesus told someone to remove his grave clothes. No one knows for sure what happened to those grave clothes. What is known is that it can be used to animate the dead. It surfaced a couple of times but it hasn't been seen since about 960 A.D. After that it just disappeared and no one has seen or heard of it again."

"So it can be used to resurrect the dead?" Pete questioned.

"Not resurrect, animate," corrected Artie. "Those that it's used on aren't truly resurrected. It animates the dead body giving it a semblance of life. But it doesn't last. It will only last for a maximum of 4 days and after that the body will be dead again.

"But the interesting part is how it's used. Before it can be used to reanimate the dead, it has to be 'charged', so to speak. If you use it on a living person it will drain the life force of that person and then it can be used to reanimate a dead body."

"So if it drains the life force of a living body," said Myka, "that might mean it doesn't leave any marks on the body."

"Exactly," replied Artie. "Which would explain how the coroner can have four dead bodies with no sign of injury or wound. They wouldn't have any wound because the life force was sucked directly out of the body."

"So if Stapleton is the one doing this," said Pete, "that means he's using the shroud on the bodies he picks up at the hospital to reanimate them. Then he has that reanimated body rob a drug dealer or loan shark or whatever, taking one of the people there as a hostage to recharge the shroud so he can use it later."

"Stapleton?" questioned Artie.

"One of the drivers that picks up bodies from the hospital and delivers them to the mortuary," said Myka.

"The same mortuary where the 3 bodies disappeared from," interjected Pete.

"Then he's probably the one doing it," said Artie. "But it also means he's probably not carrying the shroud around with him. It would be too noticeable. You'll need to get him to tell you where he's keeping it."

"Just how big is this shroud, anyway?" Pete asked.

"It's rectangular and measures approximately 14.3 × 3.7 feet. It looks like a large sheet and it's woven in a three-to-one herringbone twill probably composed of flax fibrils."

"A sheet?" questioned Pete. "You want us to look for a sheet at a hospital or a mortuary? Do you have any idea how many sheets places like that have?"

"Don't worry, you'll recognize it," said Artie. "It's not like any sheet you've ever seen. Each death shroud was handmade."

"That is, assuming this Stapleton is the one who has it," said Myka. "He could be working with whoever does have it."

"You should be able to identify whoever is using it," said Artie. "The process of using the shroud drains fluid from the user's body. They'd have to replace that fluid. So whoever is using it is probably drinking a lot of water. You have to get that shroud. If the difference in the user and the dead body is too great it will completely drain the user, permanently resurrecting the body."

"Stapleton must be using it," said Myka. "When I spoke to him yesterday he kept drinking bottle watered. And he said something that I didn't give much thought to at the time. He said he hadn't heard of anyone pulling a Lazarus."

"Then you need to get that shroud as quickly as possible," said Artie. "Resurrecting the dead can be worse than disastrous."

The Farnsworth went dead as Artie severed the connection.

"Okay," said Myka, "Gordon said that Stapleton was visiting his mother. That means he's probably at the hospital."

"So why is he using the shroud to reanimate the dead and rip off gansters?" questioned Pete. "Assuming he got about the same amount from all four dead bodies that means he'd have nearly a million dollars. Why is he still hanging around working as a driver for a mortuary company?"

"His mother," replied Myka. "She has terminal cancer and cancer treatments can be expensive. Very expensive. He doesn't have any benefits with this job and Pendergast said he didn't have any insurance. Which means he's using the shroud to pay for his mother's cancer treatments."

"Works for me," said Pete. "We'd better get to the hospital while he's still there. After you talked to him yesterday he might be suspicious. He could disappear and we might never find him again."

"I'll drive," said Myka as the two turned and headed for their car.

When they got to the hospital they quickly found the room where Mrs. Stapleton was in. As they stepped up to the door they saw Derrick standing next to the bed of an elderly woman. She appeared very frail and Derrick was holding her hand and speaking to her in a very soft voice. It was evident even from a glance that he cared about her deeply.

"Don't worry, mom," said Derrick, patting the bag he had slung over his shoulder, "I'm taking care of everything. The doctors say just a couple of more treatments and you'll be as good as new. You should be able to go home soon."

"I'm just so tired all the time," replied the woman. "The treatments take a lot out of me. I'm not sure how much more I can take."

"Just a couple more," said Derrick. "Then you can come home and I'll take care of you."

"Sorry to interrupt," said Myka as she and Pete stepped into the room, "but we need to have a word with Derrick."

"Derrick, who are these people?" questioned his mother. "I'm not really feeling up to having visitors right now."

"Just a couple of friends, mom," said Derrick, looking at Myka. "It's nothing. I'll be right back. You just rest."

He laid her hand on her bed and moved over to Pete and Myka.

"We need to talk about a death shroud," said Pete, lowering his voice so Mr. Stapleton couldn't hear. "The one you've been using to reanimate the dead."

"I was afraid you might figure that out," said Derrick. "Look, what I've done really isn't that bad. The guys I brought back had no family or friends to speak of. And they're not really alive so they can't be hurt. And the guys I ripped off were all criminals. The money I took was gotten from all kinds of illegal enterprises. And I'm putting it to good use. My mom's getting the treatments she needs to stay alive."

"We understand that," said Myka. "But the shroud is dangerous. You have no idea just how dangerous."

"Look," said Pete, "I can sympathize with you. In your place maybe I'd do the same thing. But Myka is right. Artifacts are nothing to play around with. You can keep the money. We aren't interested in it. But you have to give us the shroud."

"Okay," said Derrick, a note of resignation in his voice. "Can we stop by the cashier's window first? I need to make the next installment for my mom's treatment. After that, I'll take you where I keep the shroud."

"Well," said Myka, looking at Pete. She could tell from the look on his face that he was okay with that. "I guess that will be okay. But then you have to take us to the shroud."

"No problem," said Derrick, taking a bottle of water out of the bag he was carrying and patting the bag. "I have the payment right here. I just need to give it to the cashier."

"You don't put the money in the bank?" Pete questioned.

"When you put that kind of money in the bank," replied Derrick, "they ask questions. Like where you got it. I can't very well tell them the truth, now can I? Besides, the hospital takes cash so it's not a problem. I just pay the cashier and everything is fine. No paper trail to lead back to me."

"Let's go," said Myka. "We need to get that shroud in a neutralizer bag as quickly as possible."

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry," said Derrick.

"Yeah, well, I suppose we can understand the situation you were in," said Pete. "It couldn't have been easy for you. But you just didn't go about it the right way."

"Oh, no, I don't mean that," said Derrick.

"Then what?" Myka asked.

"For this," said Derrick. He held up the bottle and squeezed it as hard as he could. The water in the bottle shot out of the open top in a stream and struck Pete directly in the eyes. Then Derrick pushed on Pete as hard as he could, sending him falling back into Myka, who barely caught him and kept both of them from tumbling to the floor.

Pete rubbed the water out of his eyes as he regained his footing. He looked up to see Derrick was all ready gone. He rushed to the door and looked both ways down the hall. To his right he saw Derrick running down the hallway and then pause only a moment, glancing back at the room. Then Derrick turned and ran through the door that led to the stairs.

"That was a stupid rookie mistake," said Pete as he and Myka took off after Derrick.

They reached the door to the stairway and Pete looked down the spiral winding staircase. He could just barely make out Derrick as the latter hurried down the stairs. He was all ready halfway to the bottom before either Pete or Myka could begin their pursuit.

"We can't let him get away," said Myka as Pete began to take the stairs 2 and 3 at a time. "If he gets out of the building we may never find him again."

Pete hurried down the stairs Myka close behind. He would occasionally glance over the railing of the stairs and each time he did he could see that he was steadily gaining on Derrick. But Derrick would reach the bottom door before they could reach him.

"He's heading for the bottom floor," said Pete just as he saw Derrick pull the door open and disappear through it.

"Pete," said Myka. "The bottom floor. That's usually the morgue. If he has the shroud charged . . . ."

"Way ahead of you," said Pete, as he pulled out the Tesla.

Pete reached the bottom of the stairs a couple of moments before Myka. He pulled the door open and hurried inside. As he did he saw Derrick standing next to a body lying on a gurney. Pete looked in astonishment as he realized that Derrick had pulled out the shroud and covered the body with it. In moments the body opened its eyes and sat up.

"Stop them," Derrick ordered. Then he turned and hurried toward a door in the back of the room.

As Pete entered the room, the body turned to face him. Then it got up off the gurney and began to move toward him just as Myka came through the door behind him.


	7. Chapter 7

SEVEN

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Myka asked, moving up behind Pete. "Shoot him."

Pete raised the Tesla and fired. Ordinarily he would have felt bad about shooting an innocent bystander. But he also knew this was no innocent. It wasn't even alive. Just a reanimated body.

The discharge from the Tesla struck the hulking figure. The figure stopped for a moment and spasmed as the electricity engulfed it. But it didn't stop him. Almost immediately it began moving toward Pete again, moving much faster than Pete would have thought possible.

Pete fired the Tesla again and again the figure was engulfed in the electrical tendrils of the discharge. But just as before it had little effect on the body. Before Pete could react, the reanimated body reached out and grabbed him around the throat with both hands. Then it began to squeeze.

Pete struck the body's arms in an attempt to break its' grasp. He was gasping for air and getting none. He knew in a moment he would pass out and in all likelihood the body would continue to squeeze until he was dead. He struck the body several times in the midsection to no avail. Nothing he did had any effect on the hulking body.

Myka moved around behind the body and placed her arm around its throat. Then she pulled with all her might trying to pull the creature off Pete. But it was of little use. Try as she might the incredible strength of the body was just too much for her to handle.

She quickly looked around for something she could use as a weapon. She spied a fire extinguisher sitting on a small ledge in a nearby wall. As quickly as she could she moved over and snatched up the extinguisher. Then, with all her strength, she swung the extinguisher, striking the body in the back of the head.

It had little effect. The body continued to choke the life out of Pete as he struggled and gasped for air. Myka swung the extinguisher again, striking the body once more. This time the creature turned and looked at her. Unceremoniously it dropped Pete and turned on Myka. She backed away from it knowing that if Pete wasn't a match for it, she was even less of a match.

Pete dropped to the floor gasping and sucking in air as fast as he could. He was still disoriented and it would be a moment or two before he had regained his momentum. As Myka backed away from the creature, she stumbled over the leg of a nearby gurney, sending her sprawling to the floor. The fire extinguisher went rolling across the floor.

Myka sat on the floor looking up at the hulking creature that was even now advancing on her. In a moment the creature would reach her and would, most likely, strangle the life from her as it had tried to do to Pete.

Just as the creature reached her, it inexplicably stopped. It stood for a moment staring down at her and then toppled over, as if it were a tree that had just been cut down. Myka rolled to one side, barely escaping as the body fell to the floor where she had lain only a moment before. The body didn't move.

Pete regained his feet and came running over to her as Myka stood up. They both stared down at the body as it lay unmoving on the floor.

"You okay?" Pete asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. What about you?"

"I'll recover." Pete looked down at the body. "What happened?"

"I don't know. It just suddenly collapsed." She nudged the body with her foot. It didn't move. "Whatever it was it seems to be dead again."

"Come on," said Pete. "Maybe we can still catch Stapleton."

They followed Stapleton through the same door he had disappeared through only a moment before. As they entered the next room they saw Stapleton on the opposite side of the room. It appeared to be the room where they kept additional bodies and Stapleton was furiously throwing himself against a door. A door that was obviously locked or bolted.

"Hold it, Stapleton," said Pete, raising the Tesla.

Stapleton turned and faced the two Secret Service agents. The shroud was draped over the bag he was carrying. He snatched up the shroud and held it out in front of him menacingly. He turned first from Pete then to Myka, threatening them with the shroud.

"Stay back," he insisted. "You have no idea what this can do to you. I won't hesitate to use it."

"We know what it does," said Myka. "Just put it down. There's no reason for anyone else to get hurt today."

"No," said Stapleton. "My mom's treatments are nearly finished. But if the cancer comes back I'll need more money. It's the only way I can get the money I need for her to get the treatment she needs."

"By killing other people?" questioned Pete. "You think your mother would want that if she knew what you were doing?"

"It doesn't matter," said Stapleton. "The ones who are dying are scum. Preying on the innocent. They deserve to die. I've stopped them. They'll never hurt anyone ever again. But my mom never hurt anyone. She's a good person. She deserves to live."

"Not like this," said Myka. "Not at the expense of someone else. Now, just put the shroud down. We don't want to hurt you."

"No," said Stapleton. "You come any closer and I'll use this. Just stay away."

"Guess I don't have a choice," said Pete as he took aim at Stapleton.

Suddenly the door behind Stapleton opened and a young man in a lab coat carrying a clipboard came through. He had a set of keys in his hand and was just putting the keys into his pocket. He looked up and saw the three individuals standing in the room.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "No one is supposed to be here."

Stapleton didn't hesitate. He spun around and grabbed the young man. With one arm holding the man across the throat he held the shroud threateningly.

"Put the gun down," he demanded. "Or I'll use this on him. I don't want to hurt any innocent people. But I won't let you take me in, either."

"Just take it easy," said Pete. He glanced over at Myka. Neither of them was close enough to do anything. If Stapleton used the shroud, the man would be dead before either of them could get to them. "Like Myka said, no one needs to get hurt here today. Just let him go and we'll talk about this."

"Put the gun down," demanded Stapleton more forcefully. "Now."

"Okay, okay," said Pete, laying the Tesla on the floor. "Look, I'm putting it down. Just let him go. You don't want to hurt him. He hasn't done anything to you."

"Like I said," said Stapleton, "I don't want to hurt any innocent people. We're leaving here, now. Once I'm safely away I'll let him go. Don't try to follow us. I swear I won't hesitate to use this is I have to."

"You all ready have hurt innocent people," said Myka.

"No I haven't," protested Stapleton. "The only ones I've hurt were the scum that prey on the innocent. I was real careful."

"She's right," said Pete. "You killed a cop. The second victim you took? He was an undercover cop. You couldn't have known that. But you killed him. And now he's upstairs with the other victims you took."

"You're lying," said Stapleton. "He was working with that loan shark just like the rest of them."

"Are you talking about those bodies the coroner can'y determine a cause of death for?" asked the technician that Stapleton was holding. "One of them is a cop. The coroner said the police didn't want that information released. But he was a cop. Some kind of undercover cop from what I understand."

"No," said Stapleton, pain and regret in his voice. "That can't be. I was so careful. I made sure they were all criminals. There has to be a mistake."

"There is," said Myka. "You couldn't have known he was a cop. It was just bad luck you chose him. Don't make things worse. Give us the shroud. Don't make another mistake like you did then."

"No," Stapleton repeated. "I'm no different than they are. Preying on the innocent for my own selfish needs. The only ones who were supposed to get hurt were the evil ones. The ones that didn't care about others. I'm no better than they are."

"Just give us the shroud," said Pete. "Then it will all be over."

"No it won't," said Stapleton. "I'm a murderer. I killed a cop. There's no justification for what I did. I need to be punished."

"No," Myka screamed.

Before she could react, Stapleton pushed the tech he was holding away and grabbed the ends of the shroud. He turned towards the door he was standing in front of and wrapped the shroud around him as if it were a blanket. Almost instantly he collapsed on the floor, unmoving.

Pete rushed over and looked down at the partially covered body, Myka standing next to him. He put on the surgical gloves they both carried and carefully removed the shroud from Stapleton's body. He lay on the floor with his eyes still open. Lifeless eyes that stared off into space.

"He didn't have to do that," said Pete. "All he had to do was give us the shroud."

"Come on," said Myka. "Let's get out of here. There's nothing we can do for him now. It's over. We need to get the shroud back to the warehouse."

Myka picked up the bag Stapleton had been carrying as Pete carefully folded the shroud. It was much too big to put in the small neutralizer bags they carried. But they had a canister of the neutralizer liquid in their car. Pete put the shroud in the bag and then he and Myka left the morgue and headed to their car.


	8. Chapter 8

EIGHT

"I just don't understand," said Myka as Artie carefully took the shroud out of the bag. "He didn't have to kill himself. He could just have given us the shroud and it would all have been over."

"It sounds to me like he had rationalized what he had done by believing he only killed bad people," replied Artie. "When he discovered one of them was what he defined as bad, he couldn't deal with it. And it also sounds like there wasn't much you could do about it."

"He took us both by surprise," said Pete. "We were just lucky that body he used the shroud on suddenly collapsed. I still don't understand what happened."

"It must have been dead for 4 days," said Artie.

"What's that got to do with it?" Pete asked.

"Lazarus had been dead 4 days when Jesus supposedly brought him back," said Artie. "That was translated into the power of the shroud. The body can't have been dead more than 4 days. Plus, it will only reanimate a body for 4 days minus whatever time it's been dead."

"So if the body was dead for, say, 2 days," said Myka, "and you use the shroud on it . . . ."

"It will only remain animated for 2 days," finished Artie. "And Lazarus was a Jew. So he hadn't been embalmed and there was no autopsy. That was also incorporated into the shroud. My guess is he used the shroud on a body that had been dead for 4 days and it only had a few minutes left before the time limit was reached. When the 4 days was up, it returned to its dead state."

"Lucky for us it did," said Pete. "It nearly killed me. Nothing seemed to affect it, not even the Tesla."

"That's because it really wasn't alive," said Artie. "Just reanimated. It couldn't feel anything. But the shroud is now safe and sound in the warehouse. I'll be sure to put it away where no one can ever use it again."

"I kind of feel sorry for Stapleton," said Myka. "I think he was basically a good kid who just made some bad choices. He was just trying to help his mother."

"A good kid that killed 4 men," said Artie. "Don't forget that. It doesn't matter who a person is that doesn't give them the right to kill indiscriminately no matter how noble the reason."

"Well, I agree with Myka," said Pete. "I think Stapleton was basically a pretty good kid who just got in over his head. Like you said, he rationalized what he did by believing the men he killed were evil. I don't think that makes him bad. Just misguided."

"That may be," replied Artie. "But it's all over now and there's nothing any of us can do about it. We have another artifact out of circulation and it won't hurt anyone ever again.

"Why don't you two take a couple of days off? You've worked hard since you got here and you need to recharge, so to speak. Soon enough we'll locate another artifact and you'll have to go get it as well."

"You don't have to tell me twice," said Pete. "I think I'll run into town and check at the post office to see if my stuff has come in yet. It just doesn't seem like home without my stuff."

"Well I for one have a good book I started the other day that I haven't been able to get back to," said Myka. "With all the artifact chasing we've been doing I haven't had nearly enough time to read. I'm going to enjoy my time off. I'm going to take a nice bubble bath and finish my book."

"Myka, you're such a girly girl," scoffed Pete as he headed out the door.

Artie just rolled his eyes. "It's a wonder they ever find anything at all," he muttered to himself as he began to catalogue the shroud.

The End


End file.
